Paralyzed Pizza
I somehow found myself working in a pizza joint. This is not all that odd because in my waking hours, I’ve worked for seven different pizza joints. However, this is where the normality of the dream ends. The pizza place was part of an ancient Irish monastery. I’ve been studying them this week for my Irish history class, so I’m sure that is where the monastery comes into play. The cooks were all monks that spoke only Latin (but I somehow managed to understand them just fine.) They were great to work around. No matter how sweaty the hot kitchen made them, and how often we messed up orders, they were happy to sling dough, slop sauce around, and chop the pizzas. It was a real joy to be around them. It makes me wonder if monks (past or present) are/were that fun to be around.
The strangest thing is that (besides myself) the wait staff was comprised entirely of paraplegic women. They would roll around the floor delivering drink, food, and merriment. They worked themselves into a fervor with their desire to make the customers happy. The only problem that I had was that they were all incompetent, and could not get an order correct to save their lives. The monks didn’t seem to care, but the customers were getting upset with this.
I think I was the manager because it was my job to follow along behind the wait staff and fix things that they had messed up. I was constantly running behind them double-checking everything, and getting it all right. It was the oddest thing. Even though I was working my ass off and fixing other peoples’ mistakes, I never once got upset. The laughter of the monks was infectious, and that kept me in good spirits.
Towards the end of the dream, we served a man a great meal. His “tip” to the waitress was to cure her paralysis. Did we just serve pizza to Jesus? How strange. The woman leapt from her wheelchair, and started somersaulting around the restaurant. She went from table to table getting all orders, drink refills, and other requests correctly. Somehow the man (Jesus?) had also cured her incompetence. I went to ask the man if he could cure the rest of the wait staff, but he was already gone.
I went into the kitchen to ask the monks about the man. They smiled knowingly, and just said, “He’ll be back when he’s ready. Just be ready for him.”
My dreams usually seem to last right up to the moment that I wake up, but after hearing the monks talk about this miracle worker, I faded off to sleep. Even though I only managed to get 5 1/2 hours of sleep, I woke up feeling fairly refreshed, and ready for work.
